Cherry Cola Champagne
by xgravigirlxl
Summary: "I asked her her name and in a dark, brown voice she said Lola..." Russia seduces another nation by way of cross-dressing and song. Alfred/Ivan.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: This is a de-anon from the Hetalia kinkmeme!

-_Summary of the request_: Russia cross-dresses and seduces another nation based off of Lola by The Kinks.

There will be several changes between the parts on the Hetalia kinkmeme and the newer parts I de-anon. Ya know, just in case someone points it out.

I seriously hope you enjoy this and thanks for even checking it out. :)

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Alfred F. Jones walked along the streets of Moscow, feeling cold and irritated. He had suddenly gotten the urge to leave the warmth of his comfortable apartment and venture out into the night in search of a distraction or something. Unfortunately for him, that something had proven to be elusive.

He passed by open bars and closed stores all the while mumbling to himself about not knowing the goddamn language of the goddamn country he was in. The only other person he knew that could help him had mysteriously disappeared after the end of the summit and Alfred was not about to call him up simply because he needed help.

He was not about to call him, period.

Wait. What did he need help with anyways? And why the hell was he out of his apartment again? He could be ordering more food or watching re-runs of that cartoon Russia liked so much. The one with the little brown bear thing. Che- che.. che-something.

Or he could be sleeping. Yes, sleep sounded wonderful to the American. Actually, scratch that. Aything sounded better than freezing outside.

Alfred decided to make his way back to the apartment by taking one of the back-streets he had noticed on his way to god-knows where. The street was dark save for a few flickering street-lamps and the glow of neon signs from the bars lining both sides. It was empty but not devoid of noise. Laughter and muffled russian words spilled out unto the street from some of the open doors and windows. Suddenly, a few buildings up ahead, a door swung open letting out a ray of blue light. Loud music and various noises could be heard coming from the now open door as Alfred got closer.

A man stepped out into the sidewalk followed by woman with broad shoulders and a wide back. Alfred immediately stopped dead in his tracks. He recognized the body of the person standing before him. How many times had he seen it in his dreams; his nightmares? The only difference now was that he had never seen a dress on the man he knew to have that exact same build.

No, it couldn't possibly be who he was thinking of. There was absolutely no way it could be who he was thinking of. The person he had in mind was very much a man known not for wearing skin-tight black dresses but for terrifying anyone he came into contact with.

He shivered against the cold and realized he needed to get home before the cold affected his brain any more than it already had. He was standing there rooted to the spot simply watching the exchange when the girl suddenly turned around. His eyes widened considerably when he saw the girl's face.

Red blush made her cheek bones seem higher, more refined. Black eyeliner ran along the edge of her eyes, her violet eyes.

_Ivan._ The name had immediately popped into his mind as he stared at the person before him. He was the only person Alfred knew to have eyes like that.

A flash of something Alfred couldn't place crossed Ivan's eyes. If he knew or even wanted to acknowledge it was Alfred standing there gaping at him, he sure as hell didn't show it. Ivan turned back around to face the other man. He mumbled something in Russian and proceeded to walk back into the night club.

Even after the other man had walked away and the door to the night club had been shut, Alfred simply stood there too dumbfounded to try and move.

Oh hell no. He was not about to let Ivan simply walk back into the club like that. He was either going to get to the bottom of why Ivan had been standing there in a dress and quite possibly use that information as future blackmail or so help him, he was never letting Ivan live it down.

Alfred shut his mouth, not realizing it had been open the entire time and walked towards the door. He was a man on a mission now; a mission hero's like him never backed down from.

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**A/N: **ORZ ; First part is rather short. They will get longer as they go along...

Please review. It'll let me know if I'm any good or not. I'll make sure to improve on anything if I get constructive criticism. Thank you. 3


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: This is a de-anon from the Hetalia kinkmeme!

-_Summary of the request_: Russia cross-dresses and seduces another nation based off of Lola by The Kinks.

CCC : Now with more DRAG QUEEN!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did there'd be more Cold War stuff. :3

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Ivan walked back into the club feeling slightly less cheerful than when he had stepped out to say goodbye to Nikolai, the man who had so kindly bought him and his co-workers three bottles of the bars finest vodka each. Now, Ivan was not one to latch unto a specific customer but when they dished out that kind of money, could Ivan possibly say no? Of course not!

Sure, he liked the attention but it was for the good of the club. Yea, right. Who was he kidding? He enjoyed seeing the men that came in lose money because he knew they'd be missing it the next day. He could only smile as he imagined the pitiful, horrified looks they would have on their faces when they fully realized just how much they had spent while extremely drunk. He sighed as he recalled all the times he had seen this happen. Yes, work was very gratifying.

Ivan called it work because the time he spent at New Age could certainly qualify as nothing else. New Age was the name of a trendy bar in the center of Moscow frequented by the city's young, hip and prominently gay.

Ivan, of course, had not known this when he had stumbled upon the establishment more than a decade ago. He had simply wanted a place to drink because on that particular night, he had deemed his living room too nostalgic of a place to drink in. His economy had not been doing so well, leaving him sick and with the biggest desire to simply get hammered. Not once did he think he would find a place that would cater to his alcoholic needs as well as give him a newfound love for dressing in drag. Of course, he only did that on certain nights of the week.

Tonight was supposed to have been just like every other Friday night; he would spend part of the day finishing up some paperwork and tidying up his house, then leaving for New Age at seven. The only added difference was that Ivan had attended a summit meeting earlier in the day. The meeting was uneventful, following the same routine as all the other meetings before it. He had seen Germany stand at the podium, stoic as always, and much like all the other times, watched as the meeting dissolved into groping and boasting of over-the-top ideas from France and America respectively to bickering among the many nations present to full blown fights. And just like always, despite the meeting taking place in his country, he had put on his giggling, childlike façade, given his input once or twice, asked everyone "to become one with Mother Russia" and promptly left. He had things to do, people to see and patrons to entertain.

Yes, tonight should have been another regular night. Unfortunately, he had run into a small problem. A small, obnoxiously American problem. The thought of someone finding out about his so-called second job was always in the back of his mind, nagging and sometimes even keeping him from enjoying himself. He also knew that with a quick show of his pipe and a thorough taking to, whichever came first, he could get away with saying just about anything.

Ivan made his way across the club towards the bar thinking back on that one particular man a couple of years ago that had tried to find out more about a certain Russian lady with pretty eyes. The man had been too drunk to remember her name, insisting that it was Livia, and declaring Ivan her older brother. Ivan would have simply regarded him as a stupid fool and left it at that but the scene the idiotic man was causing needed to be stopped. Ivan had grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him outside to the alleyway that lined the back entrance of the club. The man had to be taught some respect. And who better to teach him than Ivan's trusty pipe?

It was sufficient to say that no one saw the man around the club again. Actually, no one saw the man ever again but those who worked in the club knew Ivan well enough to know that the man's impromptu disappearance was to be expected. You did not bother Ivan Braginsky like that and live to tell the tale.

Ivan chuckled as he stepped up to the bar and ordered himself a drink. He was about to turn around and survey the crowd for his show later on, when he felt someone staring at him. Years of simply observing others' movements led him to develop a keen sense of his surroundings. He always knew if someone was watching him or even casually glancing his way. What he felt now was different. It felt like the person was trying to make him turn around or perhaps undress him with their eyes. No matter. Ivan was not one to give in to others. It was usually the other way around.

He decided to give the person a little show, whoever or wherever they were. He leaned forward placing both elbows on the counter and pushed back with his butt, creating a haughty curve in the placement of his body. He then slowly ran the upper part of his boot-clad foot along the back of his leg, almost invitingly. Maybe if the person got the hint they would come up to him and order him a drink or five. He continued his movements a few more times before he felt someone come up behind him.

"I thought it might have been some weird Russian mind trick or something," the person said and Ivan immediately stopped. Wonderful. "But... You're actually in here."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alfred F. Jones, aka America, step up to stand next to him at the bar. He didn't miss the way Alfred seemed to stare at his lower back for a few seconds before coming up to gaze at his face. So the obnoxious American had followed him into the club. Why was he not surprised? Alfred was always so utterly irritating like that. No doubt he would want an explanation about everything.

Ivan made to answer but stopped when he noticed the person coming up next to Alfred. Now that the other man was here, he might as well have some fun. After all it was Alfred's fault for following Ivan into the club. He watched as Viktor, oh excuse me, Victoria, crept up behind Alfred, resting his chin on the young mans shoulder.

"Oh, fresh meat! He's hot. You gonna introduce me?," Victoria asked, winking up at Alfred from his place on the blonds shoulder. "I want to play with him too!"

Alfred stared shell-shocked at the man draped over his shoulder. Victoria was the clubs self-proclaimed number one drag queen, always wearing the most outrageous costumes and the most extravagant make-up. Tonight, she had chosen an all green and black ensemble complete with feathery hat. Her green sleeveless dress was shaped more like a bodice than anything else, creating curves and adding a bust to what would have normally been very defined pectorals. Long legs covered with black pantyhose extended out from underneath a very short sequined green skirt. Glittery green and black make-up covered her eyes complete with olive colored lipstick.

To say the least, Alfred was more than a little scared to be standing next to someone so outrageously dressed.

Ivan turned to look at the American with a strange glint in his eyes, visibly struggling to keep from smirking as he saw Alfred pale when Victoria stroked the young mans chin with the pad of her thumb.

"Oh, I don't know his name yet," Ivan said. No one in the club knew anything about Ivan other than his real name and the quaint little fact that he could drink half of the bar's vodka supply and still want more. He expected it stay that way. If pretending to not know Alfred would make sure it would stay that way, then so be it. "We just met, didn't we babe?" He raised an eyebrow in Alfred's direction, hoping the American would get the hint.

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Please review if you read... Thank you to those who fave'd the story! I appreciate it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: This is a de-anon from the Hetalia kinkmeme!

-_Summary of the request_: Russia cross-dresses and seduces another nation based off of Lola by The Kinks.

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did there'd be more Cold War stuff. :3

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"Oh, I don't know his name yet."

Alfred's head snapped up at the sound of Ivan's voice. How long had it been since he had heard Ivan's voice, not the one he seemed to have adopted to hide behind. His real voice. He felt himself blush. Maybe it was the fact that they were in a club surrounded by flashing lights and blaring music with Ivan standing before him wearing a dress but Alfred had never heard it sound this way before. Ivan's voice now was a mixture of seduction and danger, of lust and passion; all childlike qualities completely gone. It was a voice worthy of rivaling France himself.

"We just met, didn't we babe?"

Ivan had finally turned to face him and a delicate eyebrow was raised in his direction. The white light of the bar counter provided him with a slightly better view of the Russian's attire. He eyes slowly roamed over the front of Ivan's dress, taking in the v-neck open front and the view of the larger man's collar bone. He wore a black dress with a see-through brassiere outlined with silver sequins. Eight large individual sequins were strategically placed over what would have been filled by breasts. The brassiere gave way to black fabric, stretched tight over prominent abdominal muscles. Alfred followed the line of those muscles leading down to the ruffled skirt, wondering slightly if Ivan was wearing anything underneath.

His eyes traveled back up to meet Ivan's and he couldn't help but stare into them again. Dark blue smoky eyeshadow had been smudged over his eyes making the violet irises stand out more. He noticed the thin line of red eyeliner just below the black creating even more of an impact. He almost lost himself in the violet when he finally realized what Ivan had said.

Was Ivan pretending not to know him? Was he really gonna pretend that he did not see America, aka. Alfred F. Jones, self proclaimed hero, a country he most definitely knew, standing there gaping at him, again? Dammit. Fine. Two could play this game.

"Yes," he said slowly, all smiles and charm. "I had the pleasure of meeting this fine young lady, just now actually." Alfred ignored the menacing aura that had suddenly surrounded Ivan along with the glares that were now being sent his way.

"Aw. It seemed like you two knew each other. Well, whatever. Now you can tell me your name!" The green menace was dangerously close again.

"Sure. I'll tell you mine," he said, eye's never wavering from Ivan's. "But only if you tell me yours."

"Oh! My name's Victoria. I hate it when people call me Viki but I could make an exception just for you!" Oh, so the green thing had a name. Alfred glanced at Victoria, nodding absently before turning back to Ivan.

"So pretty lady, what's your name?"

He smirked knowing full well that Ivan was almost certainly wishing he could punch Alfred square in the face or stab him repeatedly with a blunt, rusty knife. Either option was plausible. He also knew full well that the poor bastard couldn't risk it, not now at least. Alfred certainly hoped Ivan wouldn't get the chance.

He secretly marveled at the way Ivan went from plotting someone's brutal death to the epitome of seduction in two seconds flat. Ivan's trademark smirk was finally making it's appearance on that deceptively angelic face. He finished his drink, motioning for another, before placing the empty glass on the counter. Alfred simply stood wide-eyed as Ivan slowly inched closer until his mouth was by the shell of his ear.

"Call me Lola." Ivan's warm breath ghosted over the hair haphazardly tucked behind his ear. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he shivered. Ivan stepped back winking at him before nonchalantly turning to grab his drink.

"Sharing is caring, Lola," Victoria cooed in his ear, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Alfred found himself shivering again but for completely different reasons. He tried to shrug her off before deciding that a more direct approach, or in this case avoidance, would work best with the clingy woman, man, whatever!

"Uh, right. Yea," he said swatting her hand away. "Well my name is Alfred."

"Gosh, you really are cute. I like your glasses."

"Thanks." Alfred cleared his throat, hoping to get the attention of the other nation. "So Lo—"

"—But sweetie, your hair has got to go. It looks more like a bird's nest." Victoria was now gesturing wildly at his hair, looking appalled. "And this cowlick thing you have going on ruins your face. It looks pretty stupid."

Alfred's jaw dropped. Did he just insult Nantucket? And for God's sake, his hair was naturally like that! Unkempt. Or whatever England had once called it.

"I think he needs your expertise, Victoria." Ivan said in between giggles. Alfred turned to glare at him, hoping the other man would spontaneously combust.

"No, I don't think I do, thanks." Alfred tried turning around to lean against the counter but Victoria was quick. She pounced his back knocking the air out of him.

"Oh yes, yes you do. Never mind that you're cute, it's hurting my eyes to look at. And how are the ladies supposed to be wooed if you look like you just rolled out of bed?"

Alfred did not need fashion advice from some drag queen. And could Ivan possibly laugh any louder?

"I— I don't need to woo anyone. My hair is awesome the way it is, thank you." He glared at Ivan again. "Could you please stop laughing at me? Both of you?" Victoria had begun to laugh but covered her mouth with her hand as soon as Alfred turned back to look at her.

"Oh come on." Alfred stepped back as Victoria slung her arms around his neck. "I was just playing with you." Alfred tried once again to dislodge her from him but she was stronger than she looked. Of course, Victoria was a man but he really didn't want to use his actual strength right now. And where the hell was Ivan going?

"Lola! Wait! No, come back!" He tried to move out of Victoria's grasp. Ivan was not going to disappear this time! "Lo— Lola! Don't go!"

"I just figured I'd leave you two lovebirds alone, yes?" Ivan called back not turning around.

"Ivan wait! Shit! I mean— Lo— Lola!" Alfred cringed. He hadn't meant to call Ivan by his name but Victoria had tightened her hold and was now rubbing up against him. He would do anything to simply get out of there.

From what Alfred could see, Ivan had only made it to the edge of the dance floor. The older nation stopped and clenched his fists. Oh shit. He was sure he was going to get punched now.

Ivan turned around and the temperature seemed to drop. The icy glare made Alfred shiver. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted Ivan to stay anymore.

"So, you do know each other! I knew it! That look you gave each other was so obvious!" Victoria said, finally letting go of his neck. "Are you guys together or—"

"Victoria. Kindly shut the hell up." Ivan was heading straight for Alfred and oh god, he had no intentions of dying right now.

"Dude, personal space!" Alfred shrunk back as Ivan loomed over him, smiling like a child again.

"Dear Alfred wants to play with me then?" No, he had gone back to that voice! The voice that could be telling you how nice the weather was and then tell you how it's owner would kill you in your sleep.

"Uh, I—", he started before Ivan giggled. He fucking giggled. Alfred stared up at Ivan's face suddenly wishing he had never walked into the club.

"I'll play with you then, little Alfred." Ivan grabbed his hand and roughly pulled him towards his chest. "We're going to have some fun now, yes?"

Alfred felt the air get knocked out of him as Ivan pulled him into a bear hug. The other man abruptly pulled back turning to face Victoria.

"I'll be taking him now okay? Oh and tell Alexei I won't be going on tonight."

"Wait, where are you going?" Alfred was wondering that same exact thing but he didn't dare voice it for fear of oh, I don't know dying? He could totally overpower the damn bastard but did he really want to cause a scene here? No, not really.

"None of your business, Viki. Just tell him for me. Please," Ivan added as an afterthought. Ivan took Alfred's hand and began to lead him away from the bar, towards the other side of the club.

"I won't tell him anything!" Victoria shouted after them.

"Oh she will," Alfred heard Ivan whisper as Ivan squeezed his hand.

"So, uh you wanna tell me where the hell you're taking me? I know I shouldn't have said—"

"Shut up. I think you've talked enough, yes?" Ivan had lead them to the DJ's booth. Was he going to get killed by way of vinyl CD? "Stay here."

"Like hell I will. I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. You are going to wait for me right here and you are going to keep your mouth shut. That should not be so hard, yes?" Alfred shivered again as Ivan leaned in close, index finger rubbing the underside of his chin.

"Uh,y-ye- I-" Alfred stuttered as he saw Ivan step in to talk to the brunette inside the booth. Dammit all to hell! Now that he had a chance to talk to Ivan alone, the guy was back into prick-mode.

He frowned as Ivan walked out of the booth carrying a small case.

"I'm not going to perform tonight, which is a shame because I had been looking forward to it. Lucky for me, little Alfred, you are going to make up for it."

Ivan had grabbed his hand again and was leading him across the dance floor to a set of stairs leading up to a dark hallway.

Wait, he was going to what?

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These are getting progressively longer. I like it. :)

Anyway, please review. Constructive criticism is always welcome! It'll honestly help me so much.


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